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Somehow, next week is Thanksgiving… I’m not sure how that happened, but I guess that explains why I’m starting to see, hear, and smell Christmas EVERYWHERE. It’s time to pull the onesie out of storage, replace my white wine supply with caramel baileys and hot cocoa, and give into the holiday season (i.e. begin hibernation).

So to get you (and mostly me) started and put you in the holiday mood, here’s a little treat from some underwear company, in case you haven’t seen it.

Meanwhile, I’ll be back here trying to convince some of my (soon to be ex) guy friends to remake that video…

With the onset of cooler temperatures, the most noticable change in the hallways of the Capitol is the sudden absence of bare legs, and the resurgence of tights (or pantyhose, as my mother would say). Its now time where my legs don’t see the sunshine for around 5 months, and since I am eternally single, and you know what that means…

Shaving aside, tights are great – you can wear almost anything with tights, and it is suddenly weather appropriate. Skirts that were a bit too short for the office are suddenly rendered wearable again with the right opaque legwear. Not to mention, no more spanx necessary, because the tights do it for you! Can I get an AMEN for control tops?

Even though it can be a pain (handwashing, what?) I still rely on several pairs of go-to tights that get me through the winter. For work, my dependable favorites are Hue Super Opaque Tights, in black and brown. These guys are warm, very opaque, and last forever. You can pick them up at a bunch of places, but my go-to is always Macys, as they have the largest selection and the most colors, and you can often find them two for twenty!!

I found these babies through my go-to style guru, the amazing Belle of Capitol Hill Style. She has a few more recommendations that I am dying to try out!

By the way, if you never read her blog, GO FOLLOW HER. She also has this great rule, the Two out of Three rule, which changed the way I chose my tight/skirt/shoe combo. Its that groundbreaking, folks.

Warning about the Hue: The navy is a bit odd, so I am in the market for a new navy tight brand if anyone has any ideas!

I work in a very conservative office, so patterns or bright colors are out for me, but I think it could be very cute for someone in a more creative workplace to mix a few bright colors in!

For casual wear, I prefer sweater tights or knit tights, something a bit cozier. Target has a great, affordable selection. I have also heard great things about fleece-lined tights, so those are definately on my christmas list!

What are your favorite tight brands? Do you still shave your legs, even if you are wearing tights the next day? Let me know in the comments!

When did Thursday become the new Friday? The answer, as we all know, is college.

So many of those nights began with an innocent text message saying some guys at Theta Chi were going to drink a few beers while watching the game. But those “few beers” turned into tequila shots really fast… Before you knew it, you were one of 80 other people crammed into the kitchen watching that kid from the tennis team do a keg stand for 18 seconds before collapsing on top of his friends.

You hated any person that responded to your mass text by saying “I have to be up early! I have Comm at 9:30”. Really? Do you really need that much focus for a communications class? I don’t think so. This is why you don’t schedule anything before noon on Fridays.

Those were the days… But then we graduated and were forced into growing up.

Suddenly hangovers became a lot more painful. People weren’t so keen on going out super late on a weeknight. Skipping work to lay in bed with a bucket of advil simply wasn’t an option anymore. Maybe it was a sign of maturity? Overall, I thought Thursday nights were lost…

But on the 5th day, God created kickball.

If you live in DC, you what I’m talking about. For those of you who don’t, let’s put it this way: Kickball is how 20-somethings in the district justify making bad decisions. It’s 6+ consecutive weeks of weeknight drinking, shameless flirting, endless rounds of flipcup, and a revival of all those gym class skills you thought you were finished with.

Let me just give you an example for how this past week went…

In the fall, kickball is played at night with glow in the dark bases and balls, and everyone gets to wear glowsticks. Game time is another word for pre-game. It was the bottom of the second inning when the first round of fireball shots were poured. By the end of the game, we were feeling pretty good. Plus, we won. So there was all the more reason to celebrate.

The bar we went to afterwards was packed. There were over 700 people from the different kickball leagues crammed into one place. Which can only lead to good things. Pitchers of budlight began to appear immediately, and after downing the initial glass, the first of many flipcup tournaments ensued. It’s like reliving your Junior year of college post-football game parties.

I have mentioned this already: Shameless flirting.

There was a guy there from a different team who was mildly interesting. We hit it off – maybe because the drinks kept flowing… To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I ended up deciding it was a smart idea to leave with him. Apparently I told my friend that I was “sober enough” to make this kind of decision. Editor’s Note: I wasn’t.

The next thing I remember is waking up at 5am… on a couch… in MARYLAND.

Freaking Maryland.

Judging by the fact that I woke up alone on a couch, I guess that means Drunk Me was a prude. Win.

Luckily the hangover pang didn’t hit immediately, but the disorientation did. Using the light from hallway that fed under the door, I found myself crawling from the couch to what I hoped to be a bathroom. But after barging inside, I came face to face with his roommate. Oops. I can only imagine what I looked like to him. My hair sticking out in a hundred directions, eyes red from sleeping in my contacts, with a glow in the dark necklace wrapped up and down my right arm. Classy.

I then turned my attention to finding my shoes. This proved to be a very difficult task, given the fact that one was on top of the television, but it’s ultimately how I found my “kickball friend” – passed out on his bed. Pulling myself together, I poked him until he woke up and asked where the nearest metro was. Fortunately it was just down the street. Gentleman that he is, there was no offer to walk me there.

Fine by me. Not only does he not get any, he also can’t have my number.

At roughly this time, the hangover set in. I stumbled down the stairs of his apartment onto the street. However I wasn’t sure if I was walking in the right direction. Clever me thought it would be smart to flag down a car and ask. One car slows down and pulls up next to me. After clarifying that I am in fact going the right way, I begin to turn back. But that’s when the driver says: Hey! You’re that girl from the apartment!

Yup. His roommate.

“Yeah… that’s me. Nice to meet you too.”

I promptly scampered away and caught the next train into the city.

It made me wonder… Am I getting too old for this? As I said, I have had my share of embarrassing Thursday nights. But I thought they were over. Yet, here I am, with my stack of advil (this time at my office instead of my comfy bed), avoiding eye contact with most of my co-workers, and frequently swallowing budlight upchuck (Shut up – you know exactly what I’m talking about).